


Texas Judgement

by 2Minutes2Midnight



Series: Texas Verse [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Castiel is Older Than Dean Winchester, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-12-09 11:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20994221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Minutes2Midnight/pseuds/2Minutes2Midnight
Summary: Castiel must face the consequences of his actions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Stori Bambino for beta reading this chapter!

  


Castiel frowned darkly at the lawyer sitting across from him.

“Well, the good news is, your little alpha mate is off the hook for Ishim's murder. There will be a civil trial against Ishim Grace's estate. Winchester's lawyer accepted your formal claim of him and has given you permission to go through with the lawsuit in your mate's name.”

Castiel folded his arms, growling softly.

“Why can't I see Dean?”

“Ah. Straight to the point.” Crowley took a sip of coffee, setting it down delicately. Deliberately, he folded his hands before meeting the angry alpha's eyes.

“First of all, it'll hurt your defense. They're charging you with murder one. If you're convicted, you'll go straight to the chair. Do not pass go, do not apply for a retrial.”

Castiel swallowed hard. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Crowley sighed. “You're the one who wanted to take your mate's place on the chopping block. Congrats, you managed it.”

Castiel brought a shaky hand to his forehead, pushing his hair back. It wasn't that he was afraid of death. Not really. He did sign up for the military all those years ago, after all. 

He was afraid for Dean. What would happen to Dean if his mate was executed in a public trial?

“Ah. You're getting it. Finally.” Crowley snarked, twitching his nose at the scent of alpha worry.

“What do we need to do?”

Crowley leaned forward.

“There's a warrant for your arrest. Seeing as how you have a lawyer on retainer, it was delivered to me to serve to you. You have 48 hours to turn yourself in before the sheriff comes knocking.”

Castiel let out a slow breath.

“Dean?”

Crowley leaned back, examining his nails.

“Will be released this afternoon.”

Castiel nodded, the tension flooding out of his body.

“Good timing for it. Heard he was in the infirmary again. His little weasel of a lawyer claimed a no contact agreement had to go both ways.”

“Is Dean ok?”

“Don't know, darling. I imagine so if he's going to be released today.”

“Could it be..pining sickness?”

Crowley looked thoughtful. “Possibly. Now, seeing as your lovely mate is a..ahem, drifter, and you legally claimed him...”

Understanding dawned on Castiel.

“He can return to the apartment?”

Crowley offered a small shark of a smile.

“Investigation is closed. Your apartment has been cleaned. They've gathered all the evidence that they're going to have for the trial..”

“So, I can be there when Dean comes home?” Castiel got to the edge of his seat, hope in his eyes.

Crowley sighed deeply. “Best not, love. You're new mates. We know that the mating took for him because his blood tested positive. If he sees you, we might not be able to separate you. Can't afford you doing anything foolish this late in the game can we? Might look guilty of something other than self-defense.”

Castiel sighed. “When will I see Dean?”

Crowley looked a bit contrite. “Either walking down the courthouse steps a free man...or through the glass in the execution chamber.”

Castiel felt his blood run cold.

“Not even one night?”

Crowley sighed. “Look, as of now you're a free man. I will inform you that if you go against my legal counsel I will drop you as a client. I don't like losing.”

Castiel nodded. “I see.”

  


Crowley stood, dropping a few bills onto the table for his coffee. He gave Castiel a pat on the shoulder.

“Cheer up mate. It's not over yet. Oh, do be a dear and go through those papers I left as soon as possible. They should be completed and on my desk before you turn yourself in. Never know how things might go sideways.”

Castiel sighed heavily, nodding. He hefted the thick manila envelope to his side of the table and flipped it open. He read the first line and froze.

'Last will and testament of Castiel J. Novak.'

  


Castiel swallowed hard, flipping it closed.

_ Never know how things might go sideways. _

He shook his head, dropping a twenty on the table. He scooped up the envelope and headed home. He didn't need to ruin the morning of all the other patrons at the cafe with the stench of alpha grief. As he drove home, he considered where the grief was coming from. Sure, his life might be cut short...but this was deeper than that.

As he turned the corner into his lot and found Dean's impala still sitting where it was first parked nearly a month ago, he realized he was mourning the life they could have had. If it weren't for Ishim. Castiel slammed the vehicle into park angrily. That goddamned asshole. Screwed his life up once, and just when he thought there was hope, a light at the end of the tunnel, he came waltzing back in,and screwed it all to hell.

“Damn you Ishim! Damn you to hell! I hope you fucking rot!” Castiel screamed futilely at his steering wheel. 

He gave his face a cursory wipe with his trench coat sleeve before grabbing the folder and storming into his apartment.

He took a small walk through, noting all the slight differences. The carpet had been replaced. All the better, he supposed. It had been soaked with Ishim's blood. Some small items were missing. Probably in an evidence locker. The bedroom was the only room that didn't smell of industrial strength cleaners. He sat on the bed. He buried his face in the pillow. There was just the faintest hint, a whisper of the cinnamon whiskey scent that Dean carried during his rut. 

Distantly, he realized he may never get the opportunity to scent Dean as a mated man. He’d never know what it was like to scent a mate that carried his scent.

Absently he rubbed his own mating mark. It had healed over. Where Dean had gently punctured didn't even show in the lumpy reddened skin. His own scent had never changed. Legally, biologically, he was unmated. He reminded himself that Dean was mated to him. Even if it was one sided, he still had to take care of his mate. He flipped open the paperwork Crowley had written up. Taking a pen, he made the necessary corrections. He had no next of kin, not truly. Perhaps a distant cousin or two. 

All of his estate would go to Dean. Including the outcome of the civil suit, if he was executed prior to its conclusion. He wished he'd at least get to see the outcome. True, Ishim was dead. But he wanted, no, _ demanded _ reparations for all the bullshit he'd caused. He flipped to the end of the will, finding nothing further to amend. He signed his name with a flourish.

He paused, considering. Who would guarantee that Dean received all he was due? True, Crowley was on retainer. But what if Crowley never informed Dean? Castiel chewed his lip for a moment, before setting the will aside. He noticed some extra paperwork in the folder, a sticky note attached.

_ Optional, mate. Thought you might want to fill it out, regardless. _

He shuffled through the papers quickly. Application for adding a dependant to health insurance. Application for adding a mate to life insurance. Castiel quickly filled out the forms, adding his signature. 

He hesitated, surveying the apartment. Dean would arrive this evening. It smelled stale and empty. Castiel shrugged off the trenchcoat, draping it over the couch. Crowley said he couldn't see Dean.but he never said he couldn't leave him a note. He opened a window to let some fresh air in before sitting down at the table. He quickly scribbled, a short note. He shoved it in the pocket of the trenchcoat, before turning and walking out the door. He locked up, knowing that Crowley would have had a key dropped off for Dean at his release.

Castiel stood at the curb for several long minutes before hailing a cab. No point taking his car. It would just sit in impound for months. If he never came back for it, Dean could sell or junk it. He did express dislike of the old Lincoln.

The next few hours were a blur. He stopped by his office, and handed in his resignation. It would be unfair to expect his employer to hold his job for him. Before leaving he made copies of the paperwork. One set he mailed to Dean at the apartment. It would show up within two days. The other set he hand- delivered to Crowley's assistant. Before he knew it, he was suiting up in orange and having his mug shot taken.

  


As he struggled to get comfortable on the small cot, he contemplated how his mate had spent the last few weeks.

At least Castiel had the luxury of recovering in the hospital and a hotel. Dean had to lay on a hard cot with broken ribs.

Castiel blinked back tears as he drifted off. He hoped that after everything that happened, that Dean did not hate him.

  
  
  
  


Within hours, Dean was released from prison. The whole ordeal felt like a dream. None of it felt real until he stepped out of the cab and saw the impala exactly where he had left it next to Castiel’s old Continental.

Dean watched the cab pull away from the parking lot. He stared after it until it pulled onto the main drag and out of sight. Just like that, his world had completely changed once more. Dean glanced at the building, eventually recalling which door belonged to Castiel. 

Dean stood in front of Castiel's apartment, key in hand. He stared for a long moment at the brass name plate on the door. Novak. Absently, Dean wondered if he’d ever have the opportunity to share a last name with Cas. 

Dean turned around, taking a deep breath. He let it sink in for a moment, the feeling of open air around him. It felt strange, to see the sky above him after weeks of being in solitary. It was something he’d never once thought to appreciate before he got locked up.

Deciding he had wasted enough time, Dean opened the door slowly, stepping in. He was surprised to find the apartment pristine. Unconsciously, he expected to see it as he left it, Ishim's corpse leaking blood in the corner, shotgun on the floor. Castiel's unconscious body sprawled out. He noticed something seemed off, but couldn't quite place it. 

He caught a whiff of cedar and sage. The scent was fresh, too. Cas was here.

“Cas?” Dean called out softly. He had seen the old contintental parked in the lot, but hadn't dared to hope. He spotted the trench coat over the back of the couch. His heart rate picked up as he followed his nose to the bedroom.

He froze. The bed was freshly made. He could smell Castiel's scent. The bright, fresh sage. The rich cedar and musk. A strong, pure scent.

Unchanged.

Unmated.

Dean felt his heart drop. Castiel wasn't here. The mating hadn't taken. Had..had he been abandoned? 

Dean laid on the bed, inhaling the scent of his mate. It smelled so much like home. His own scent had mellowed out. The sharp tang of gunpowder softened by rich cedar and fresh sage. His alpha musk nearly undetectable. He smelled mated. To himself, and to everyone around him.

Before he was released, Dean couldn't wait to see Cas' face when the other alpha caught wind of his mated scent. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Dean wasn't certain how long he laid there, but eventually he woke up. He muddled his way to the couch, flicking on the tv. He glanced over at the trenchcoat, before pulling it over him. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that Castiel was with him. His scent was practically burned into the coat. As he adjusted the coat over himself, draped in his mate's scent he heard a faint crinkle.

Dean frowned, reaching into the pocket, he found a slip of paper. Curiosity got the better of him and he opened it.

_ Dean, I'm so sorry we weren't allowed to talk. Technically, I'm not supposed to leave you a note either. I have no idea how long this all will get drawn out. Please make yourself at home. There's a warrant for my arrest. I have to turn myself in now. The bills are all on auto-pay, so you should be okay for the next six months or so. Beyond that, I don't know. I wish I could provide for you better. Legal counsel is costly. If I make it out of this alive, please give me another chance. If I don't, please forgive me. Please don't hate me Dean. _

_ I love you, _

_ Castiel. _

  


Dean sniffed hard, blinking back tears.

“I could never hate you Cas.” he whispered into the trench coat.

His decision was made. He would wait for his mate. He would stand by Castiel's side to the very end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's fate is decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to Stori Bambino for beta-reading! They did a phenomenal job catching my many grammatical mistakes.

Eventually, Dean gathered the gumption to order delivery. He hadn't had real food in  _ weeks. _ He chowed down on chinese while watching the news. He felt so out of the loop on current events. Solitary was like being on a separate plane of existence. He wasn't sure if he could've lasted much longer there suffering the endless days of nothing..

Had he been sentenced to life in prison, he may well have killed himself. His stomach sank at the thought of Castiel enduring a similar fate. Dean sighed, putting the chinese food in the fridge. All his appetite drained away at the thought of his mate in jail.

He took a shower, cranking the heat to max. He really missed hot showers. Dean tilted his head back, enjoying the luxury. After he was good and pruny he toweled off, then flopped down naked in bed. His mate's bed. Though he supposed it was his bed now, too. Dean nuzzled into the pillow, surrounded by Castiel’s scent.

Dean groaned deeply, the scent of his mate stirring up something deep and primal within him. He had been given hormone pills to stave off the worst of pining sickness while he was in jail. His last dose had been nearly twenty four hours ago. Being safe in his mate's home, surrounded by his mate's scent, Dean felt his cock hardening rapidly.

Dean slid his hand down his body, before stroking his cock. He hadn't had any privacy in jail and he needed release.

He couldn't help but wonder what Castiel's reaction would be when he finally scented Dean. When he smelled himself imbedded into Dean's mating gland. Dean let his free hand stroke over the mating bite. It had healed quickly. It was barely visible, just two small indents he could barely feel with his finger tips. Castiel had been surprisingly gentle with him.

Dean thought back to the last time he'd laid in this bed. Cas's body warm in his arms, content and relaxed. The satisfaction of his knot caught firmly against his mate's hole while mating rut burned through his veins, heightening every sensation.

Dean groaned at the thought of knotting his mate again. Cas had been so tight.

“Cas..” he whimpered as he stroked his cock quickly, bringing his free hand to grasp at his knot. In under a minute he was finished, coming hard, face buried in the pillow as he desperately inhaled his mate's scent. That night Dean slept better than he had in weeks.

  
  
  
  


For Dean, the weeks leading up to Castiel's trial went by in a blur.

Gone were the days of endless hours on the road, running from his past.

This was his home now.

  
He'd managed to find a job at the local garage. It didn't feel right to live entirely off of his mate's savings. Finding employment had not been easy. Even though he'd been acquitted, most places already considered him guilty. Never mind the fact he was mated to a currently incarcerated alpha.

But this place was different. They were a mixed lot, some rougher than others. No one gave a shit who Dean let violate him. He knew how to turn a wrench and that was all that mattered.

“You all set there chief?”

“Yessir.” Dean confirmed, closing the hood and turning to face his boss.

“Good. Trial's tomorrow isn't it?”

Dean nodded slowly.

Benny nodded.

“Go on home. Make sure you're bright eyed and bushy tailed for your alpha tomorrow.”

Dean offered a small smile.

“Thanks Benny.”

“No problem Cher. Look, go ahead and take the week off. If things work out, you need to be with your mate. If not, don't want you stinkin' up the place. Give yourself some time to grieve.”

Dean swallowed hard. He offered a small wave as he made his way to the impala. She'd never looked better. A bit of free time, access to a garage and a whole lot of worries had done her good. Dean went through the motions of showering, eating, and preparing for bed mindlessly.

He flicked through channels on the tv, stopping abruptly when he saw his mate’s face on the screen. It felt like an eternity since he’d last seen Castiel.

_ Tomorrow morning the trial ends seeking justice for military veteran Ishim Grace, who was brutally murdered by a jilted ex-lover on June 30th _ ** _. _ ** _ Castiel Novak will stand trial for shooting Grace at point blank range with a shot gun. Tune in tomorrow morning for live updates on the proceedings. _

Dean growled softly, clicking off the tv. Of course the media would sensationalize the story. Of course there was no mention that Grace had shown up at Castiel’s home. No mention that Grace had fully intended to shoot Dean in the head in front of Castiel. No mention that he’d beaten them both to a pulp.

Dean got up from the couch. Getting angry over the news coverage wasn’t going to help Cas. Dean checked for the tenth time that his alarm was set bright and early. He was warned he wouldn’t be allowed to enter the courtroom. But he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to be standing outside, waiting patiently to catch a glimpse of Castiel. All these months of waiting, would finally come to an end.

Tomorrow was the day.

Either he'd get his mate back or he'd be a damn widower before his 27th birthday.

Were you technically a widower if you weren't married? Just mated? Hell if he knew.

Castiel quickly decided being on trial was a living hell. Two days of showing evidence and arguments. He'd been shocked to learn how much the prosecution had gathered against him. They'd painted him as an unstable, dishonorably discharged psychopath that had waited years to exact revenge on his previous lover. They outlined how Dean and Ishim were the only personal relationships Castiel had ever had.

They went into excruciating detail regarding Castiel's reclusive nature. No family connections, no close friends. A ticking time bomb, a menace to society. He was the alpha of horror stories. Vengeful, unpredictable and violent. Incapable of caring for anyone but himself. 

  
  
  


He nearly bolted out of the box when the prosecution started dragging Dean through the mud. Only Crowley's firm hand on his shoulder and growled command prevented him from getting issued a contempt of court charge.

“Sit.” his lawyer warned. Castiel slowly sank into his seat, glaring daggers at the lawyer representing the state of Texas. Blond and smarmy, Castiel hated her the moment she walked in the room. 

“So this vagabond comes into town. No mother. She died in a very..suspicious fire. No father, he drove drunk and killed himself and two others. No job. No home. Just an old black car with an expired registration. He meets the defendant. They know each other less than two days and suddenly they're mated and murdering a military veteran who earned numerous awards for bravery and skill in battle. Doesn't this sound suspicious to you?”

Castiel was aware of the low, rumbling growl in his throat. He was vaguely aware of Crowley nudging him hard with his elbow in warning. He didn't care what they said about him. But this isn't how he wanted to learn about Dean's family. He wanted to learn about his mate's past in comfort and secrecy.

“Objection. Defaming my client's mate is not relevant to this trial.”

“Sustained.”

The attorney smiled, shark like. She turned to the courtroom, voice soft and snide.

“Castiel's mate may have gotten away with murder, but we can't let this crime go unpunished.”

Crowley let out a soft, irritated grunt as he sat back down.

It continued for a while. They showed Dean's juvenile record, with multiple marks on it for fighting. They pointed out how he dropped out at 16 and barely got his GED two years later. They pulled up a counseling record from when his mother had died. Highlighted in yellow on the report.

“Dean still won't talk.”

Castiel closed his eyes. The more he heard about his mate, the more he loved him. Dean, who'd been handed the shit end of the stick from day one. Dean, who'd trudged on, even when the world relentlessly beat him down.

“It says here that it was recommended that Dean continue to attend therapy sessions, but never went back after the third visit. This is a certified record that Castiel's mate is an unstable alpha from a broken home. An alpha who needed counseling for his anger and grief after the death of his mother and refused to go to treatment. Mr. Novak can claim he was protecting his mate all he wants, but we all know the truth. The only thing he's protecting is his own hide.” 

  
  


After testimony about Dean and his background the judge called for a short recess. Cas sighed a silent thank you.. He was escorted to the bathroom to relieve himself. He stared at himself in the mirror, wondering how much worse the trial would get. He barely recognized his own reflection in the mirror. Poor sleep quality and even worse food had deepened the lines on his face. He had little hope that he would ever see Dean again.

He straightened the jumpsuit before going back to the courtroom. He sat down next to Crowley, who was oddly calm. The lawyer offered him a small ghost of a smile, patting his hand before standing up and commanding the attention of the entire courtroom.

Castiel was stunned stupid at how much Crowley had dug up on Ishim Grace. Castiel was vaguely aware of the confused scent he was throwing off as Crowley called witness after witness to the stand.

All alphas.

All had been involved with Ishim at some point during their military career.

All had been promised a mating and a white picket fence life.

All had horrific scarring that matched Castiel's own.

Every single one had taken the fall when they were inevitably caught fraternizing with a senior officer. All military records of Ishim's wrongdoing could not be located. After all, he was a high ranking, decorated officer. This fact had the jury muttering to each other. How much of Ishim's life was glossed over and fabricated?

Castiel was even more surprised when Crowley produced Ishim's personal diary and read a passage out loud to the court.

“It started with Castiel. He had begged me to mate him, told me that he wanted to belong to me. Of course, we weren't mates. How could we be? We're both alphas. I'm not sure what repulsed me more, his sickening infatuation with me, or my own disgraceful desire to take him. My mating fangs never extended once during our exploits. When he asked me to bite him, I did. It was exceedingly difficult, but I managed. I knew it wouldn't take. But it shut him up for a good long while. Of course after that, I quickly grew bored of him. He was never good enough for me. My CO found out and of course I let Castiel take the fall. He wasn't cut out for the military. Castiel is too soft, too sympathetic.

I find myself once more in this predicament. Private Jackson is exceedingly well proportioned for an alpha, and has taken me to his bed multiple times. He too, has become soft and sniveling. Begging to be mated. I will mate him as I did Castiel and the others. There is a sick sort of fascination from destroying an alpha's mating gland. They're not mated to me, yet they are still mine. I own them. I will always own them.”

Castiel felt bile rise in his throat. Ishim had bitten his mating gland with his regular teeth. No wonder it hadn't healed well. No wonder it had been  _ agony _ . That sick bastard had done it on purpose. Absently he cupped his hand to his neck, feeling the hardened lump. He hoped Dean's bite had healed well. That it hadn't caused infection or scarring. He couldn't imagine wanting to inflict suffering like that to another person, let alone his mate.

“I understand how disturbing that was for some of you to hear for the first time, but it is all in Mr. Grace's own handwriting. If the court pleases, I would like to read another section, dated the morning of Mr. Grace's death.”

Several of Ishim's past victims filtered out of the courtroom, looking pale. Castiel couldn't blame them. He'd leave too, if he were allowed.

Crowley cleared his throat, reading once more.

_ Zachariah called me last night. Said he'd spotted Castiel at the bar over the weekend. Mentioned how he went home with a young, attractive alpha. Of course I happened to be in the area visiting an old friend of mine, Ben. How dare he take home another! He belongs to me. He has always belonged to me, and he will always belong to me. I must go to him now, and set him straight.  _

Castiel zoned out from that point. He didn't want to know anymore. He let his thoughts drift to Dean. He missed his mate terribly. He'd even forgotten what Dean smelled like. The mating hadn't taken on his own end, so he couldn't even detect the undertones of Dean's scent on himself.

Castiel was desperate to know how Dean smelled mated. Truthfully, he was desperate to know everything about Dean. How he learned to pool shark so well. How he managed to keep a car from 1967 running for so long. He wanted to know how Dean liked his eggs in the morning and what his favorite song was.

Realistically, Castiel understood he barely knew Dean. He'd been reckless, taking the alpha home and mating him almost immediately. He was determined to make the relationship work if he was exonerated. He would be a good mate to Dean. He would provide for the younger alpha, love and support him. They would make it work because Castiel was never going to give up on Dean.

He just prayed Dean wouldn't give up on him, either.

“Will the defendant please rise?” The judge's voice boomed throughout the crowded courtroom. Castiel flinched slightly at the sudden noise. He had been lost in thought for a long time. He took a deep breath, standing up. The deliberation had taken just forty minutes. He held his chin high, defiant. He would show no weakness. He would retain his dignity for his mate's sake. He was acutely aware of the news camera in the corner of the room, live streaming his sentencing. He wondered if Dean was watching.

“The state of Texas has ruled that in the death of Ishim Grace, Castiel Novak was acting in defense of his mate, Dean Winchester. Due to overwhelming evidence that Grace had every intention of killing Winchester in front of Novak, including the discharging of Winchester's pistol, as well as grievous bodily injury to Winchester and Novak, the people find Castiel Novak not guilty. The state will uphold the stand your ground law and mating protection act.”

Castiel nearly collapsed with relief. He was free. He'd made it. He was dimly aware of the officer unlocking his cuffs. He was in a daze as people filtered out of the room. He stumbled out of the courthouse, escorted by security.

For his own protection, they had insisted.

He stood on the top step, taking in the fresh air. He relished the moment, his life stretching out before him, full of possibility. They could move away from this backwoods town, together. They could start a new life somewhere else. A fresh start, for both of them. Castiel cupped his hand to his mating mark once more. He would find a way to get the disfiguring mark removed. They had all the time in the world, now. He vowed he would make the most of it, and more importantly, make an honest man out of Dean.


End file.
